


Star Trek: Schism

by musikat18



Series: Project: Galatea [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BAMF!Reader, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 15:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musikat18/pseuds/musikat18
Summary: Ever since the Academy, Bones has known that Lieutenant Commander Y/N Y/L/N was not the ordinary security chief. Something about her secretive, aloof nature and red-tape-coated files make him more than a little wary of her friendship. When the core of the Federation is shaken, she’ll have to cope as her friends realize that some secrets are better off buried in the past.





	1. The Cadet and The Chief

**Author's Note:**

> This fic employs heavy influences from Wonder Woman (2017), for reasons that will make a whole lot more sense when this fic is over...enjoy!

If there was one place that Bones did not want to be, it was Basic Field Training 2-817 at Starfleet Academy.

Granted, there were plenty of reasons to not be at Starfleet Academy, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Going to space alone was already a rough transition for him, but the thought of having to take a combat class to graduate and get there wasn’t quite his glass of whiskey, either— he was a doctor, for god’s sake; when would he ever need that?

Jim had, as usual, made the surprising and unpleasant decision for them to train in the same class, since they’d likely have less and less overlap as their careers continued.

“It’ll be fun, Bones,” the blond clapped his friend’s back as they both climbed the steps to the combat training center. “Think of it as a workout.”

“You think I enjoy gettin’ all sweaty and out of breath?”

“You would if it was between someone’s sheets~~~”

Bones pinched the bridge of his nose, swallowing another rant into a firm statement, “You’re a damned infant and I hate you for dragging me into this class.”

“All cadets are required to take a basic training course,” Jim reminded him. “I just thought it would be better for you to take it with me than by yourself, y’know, to have some motivation, that kind of thing. Plus, the 2-817 instructor is supposed one of the best at the academy.”

“And you’re sure you’re not just putting us through this one because the instructor is also apparently young and pretty?” Bones grumbled.

“Don’t be so bitter, Bones. Young doesn’t have to mean inexperienced.”

Leonard didn’t know what to make of you, finally coming to the training room your class took place in. You shared his posture, with crossed arms and shoulders back in a confidence he didn’t see in himself, but your expression was unreadable. 

That didn’t sit well with him. Just because he was a surgical doctor by trade didn’t mean he saw no value in the study of psychology. Your posture was remarkably defensive for a group of people you’d never met.

“Welcome to Basic Training 2-817,” you greeted, voice like stone, once your class had gathered. “My name is Professor Y/L/N. This may be my first year of teaching this course, but I can assure you, Captain Pike didn’t request me here because I’m not qualified for field security.”

“She knows Pike!” Jim whispered to Leonard like it solved everything qualm the doctor had about taking this course.

“...so some physical tests to determine where you all stand is probably the best way to start. Any questions before we begin?” You raised your eyebrows, though not in a condescending way.

“Have you been on any ships before?” One of the younger cadets asked, “Like, on assignment? How can we be sure you know what you’re doing?”

You almost seemed flattered by the challenge to your authority, “Yes, but that’s all classified.”

“Starfleet information can be classified? Isn’t this an exploration and scientific organization?” Another female student piped up, and Bones would be lying if he wasn’t thinking the same thing.

“You command types can discuss things like that in your administrative courses later in your Academy career,” you gently but firmly ended the conversation. “I want to see laps, people. Can’t hold your own in a fight if you can’t keep up. Go!”

“Oh, she’s absolutely your type, Bones,” Jim laughed, removing his Academy jacket for the standard black undershirt. “She’s just as grumpy as you are! You’ll do plenty fine in this-“

“Cadet Kirk!” You called, making Jim jolt in surprise, “I said laps, not gossip hour! You and Cadet McCoy can talk when you’re out of my class!”

Jim hustled by you, severely humbled and even confused _(how could you hear him so far away and so quiet?)_ , with Bones in tow.

“And Cadet,” you warned, gently grabbing Kirk’s arm to ensure his attention, “don’t assume you know what kind of instructor I’ll be. That’s the kind of thinking that gets you killed out in the deep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, and you released him to start his laps.

“She’s terrifying,” Jim grinned at Bones, “this’ll be fun!”

\--

“...And I don’t think you want to be the one responsible for letting the Enterprise leave without one of its senior medical officers!” Bones snapped, hoping against hope that he could BS Jim aboard this ship. The crewman hemmed and hawed, looking between his PADD and the doorway to the ship and the belligerent doctor.

“I’ll take it from here, Lieutenant,” you said, sliding up with slick ease and taking the man’s PADD. He nodded and left you to it, the light reflecting on your red uniform and giving your face a deadly glow. Bones suddenly realized he was being faced with a much more difficult challenge: you.

“Senior medical officer, McCoy,” you frowned with interest. “Starfleet doesn’t give that out to every med track cadet. Tell me, is it because of your surgical history or in spite of it? A ship should have a functioning doctor as much as it should have a capable one.”

“My surgical performance history is none of your business, ma’am,” he said, trying his damnedest to keep Jim from fidgeting. “You shouldn’t be poking around my file, anyway.”

“As Captain Pike’s hand-picked chief of security,” you said firmly, “my job is to know everything about everyone on that ship, and that includes your file and history. Remarkable as you work is, your history points to you being more than attached to Jim Kirk. I assume he’s the closest thing you have to a friend here, isn’t he? I’m assuming he’s that lovely cadet you’re trying to smuggle on board.” You pointed at Jim’s less-than-functional form, and Bones huffed at how irritatingly right you were.

“And I thought that pointy-eared bastard was the most insufferable person here,” he grumbled.

“But that is Jim Kirk? One of Pike’s, I understand?”

He had heard Jim tell the story of Pike recruiting him before, and even though he wasn’t sure of the details, he just responded with a simple, “Yes, ma’am.”

Bones tried to disguise his relief when you nodded toward the door to the shuttle, looking up at him through your eyelashes (and certainly not in a nice way). 

“Don’t make me regret doing this, McCoy. I shouldn’t even bend the rules that much.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He felt your eyes burning with scrutiny into his back as he ushered Jim quickly onto the shuttle.

\--

“Buckle up, Bones,” Jim clapped his friend’s back as he headed toward the captain’s chair. Bones had no idea how they’d all lived, but there he was, the inherited CMO of the fleet’s flagship under his closest friend. 

_This is going to be a nightmare. No one should leave Jim in charge of anything,_ he thought bitterly. _Thank god for medical override._

He made to turn back to medbay, but he spotted you at the security console, and he knew at this point you were the kind of person to leave more questions than answers.

You should not have been up and moving so quickly after that phaser hit.

You should have been grounded for three months on physical therapy alone saving Admiral Pike.

He had tried to pore through your file to get a physical. Every single page, he found, was more confounding than the last.

_**Classified.** _

_**Redacted.** _

_**Admiral rank only.** _

The more he looked, the more red tape had covered your career until your time teaching at the Academy. There was no way you exceeded his age. This was impossible.

He elected to keep quiet about his research as he approached you.

“Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N,” he greeted. “I...think I owe you an apology.”

“I could say the same for you, Doctor,” you nodded earnestly, and this had to be the most shocking thing about you he’d ever heard.

“Sorry?” he blurted in his surprise.

“I must admit, I underestimated you,” you said. “Aviophobia. I thought as soon as the Narada started firing, you’d be headed back dirtside before we left Vulcan.”

“Oh, I wanted to, trust me,” he said dryly. “I’m pretty sure if I leave at this point, though, Jim’ll cause a galaxy-wide incident.”

“That’s what I’m here to prevent, Doctor,” you smirked, eyes twinkling. 

“Do my ears deceive me? Did you just crack a joke?”

“I’m full of surprises, McCoy,” you said, “and I think it’s in both of our interests if we just kiss and make up. I’m more than aware that I can be a little off-putting.”

He didn’t know what he could possibly say to that.

“Right...kiss and make up. That...sounds like a good idea for keeping the ship together,” he quickly clarified himself. “The making up part, I guess, though I’m not sure what we ever disagreed about in the first place.

“Good,” you held your hand out to exchange a friendly shake. “I’m looking forward to keeping the ship intact with you.”

He had no idea what the believe about you anymore, but he decided it was in his favor to agree and shake your callous-lined hand.

If you were willing to play nice, the matter of your blackened-out file could rest...at least for the foreseeable future.


	2. Rogue Ambition

This was going to be it. Leonard couldn’t believe it. He was actually going to murder Jim. He never thought he would be pushed to the limit, but the second Jim blasted that Nibirilla off its feet, he knew Jim had crossed the line.

“Dammit, man!” he barked. “That was our ride! Where the hell is Y/L/N?!” If he was about to be chased on this god-forsaken alien planet, he was not going to do it without the one person charged with keeping all their limbs attached.

“I’m sure she’s right behind me!” Jim tugged on Bones’ arm to pull him along, “Just run!”

Leonard grumbled as he started to pick up his pace. Jim was not going to get away with almost killing the three of you if he had anything to say about it...at least with you effectively MIA, he could at least get away with it.

-

You furrowed your brow as you poked through the thick, red brush, trying to find that telltale patch of dirt. You were certain you had dropped off a file here at some point...was this one Carraya IV? It had been a while, you supposed, but you were certain it was here. 

You smirked when you found the small mound you remembered creating and carefully brushed back the dust to reveal the PADD chip marked with the familiar bird-like logo.

_Carraya IV,_ you decided. _Definitely Carraya IV._

You plugged in the chip just as you heard a rustling through the trees, making you huff. Jim Kirk was a handful enough when you didn’t leave him unattended-- you should have known better than to leave him alone, in hindsight, but there was no way you could tell him about what you were doing.

It was classified, after all.

You tapped your foot impatiently as the file opened on your smuggled PADD. Sure, you were far, far away from Federation satellites, but you were certain you’d still had at least some performance speed upgrades enough to get this moving. Your fingers moved nimbly across the screen to enter the deletion command; you contained your surprise into a quirk of your eyebrow as Doctor McCoy spotted you in the bushes and stormed up to you.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, towering figure bolstered by his hands on his hips. “We’re running for our damned lives! How did you even get that down here?! What is that?”

“None of your business, McCoy,” you said, ejecting and crushing the chip under your boot once the deletion had completed. “It’s classified.”

He frowned disapprovingly, “Oh, sure, like it’s not a big deal that the damned security chief is in danger of busting up the Prime Directive like Jim’s face after Centauri VII!”

When you caught sight of the advancing Nibirans in the trees, you threw the doctor over your shoulder without much warning.

“We can discuss your concerns later, Doctor,” you said amicably as you broke into a hard run, “though I’d greatly appreciate it if you agreed to keep running.”

“If it means you put me down, I’ll be glad to!” 

You loosened your arm just enough to allow McCoy to slid back to his feet and begin running just behind Jim, with you quickly speeding ahead of the both of them.

“I HATE THIS!!!” Leonard bellowed, pondering how unfair it was that you were just far enough away to not seem to feel in much danger-- you’d had a singularly focused expression on your face, seeming awfully indifferent for a near-death experience. Perhaps that was just how all you security types were. 

“I know you do!” Jim shot back. He had been, Leonard saw, carrying some kind of scroll-- perhaps that was his way of drawing the Nibirans away from the Enterprise’s true purpose for being on Nibiru. The captain opened the scroll and hung it on a tree, stopping the pursuit, but that didn’t at all explain to Leonard why neither of his two companions had stopped running.

When he realized that they were headed for the rendez-vous, though, he let out a frustrated cry at just how they appeared to be headed towards it.

“Oh, no,” he shouted, “no, no, no, no!”

Regardless, he made the jump behind Jim’s aggressive leap and your elegant dive into the Nibiran sea below, each of you tearing off your heavy outer guises for the Starfleet-standard wetsuits underneath.

“See, Bones?” Jim tried to plaster a ‘please don’t kill me Bones’ smile on his face as the water drained from the antechamber on the Enterprise and the door to the ship opened. “That wasn’t so bad. Nobody’s hurt.”

“I guess you’re right,” he frowned, watching you start to wipe water off of your PADD and disappear down the corridor, nearly knocking Scotty over on your way out.

Your strange disappearance and how he’d found you seemed more than enough reason to finally bring up that little matter of your file. Once that damned volcano was stopped up, of course.

-

“Come in,” you called, casually leaning on the small, padded bench in your quarters. You didn’t have to look up; you already suspected that Dr. McCoy would have some questions for you.

“Just be honest with me, Y/N,” he crossed his arms as the door slid shut behind him. “I don’t wanna have to report you to Jim for suspected treason.”

“It wasn’t treason, Leonard,” you looked up. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Then how else can you explain that Federation technology sitting pretty on that undeveloped planet? You know the Prime Directive, Y/N. That was a risk of development interference.”

You pursed your lips, “Which, Jim violated, anyway.”

“Stop being so damn difficult,” he huffed. You could tell he was trying to keep his frustration at bay. “I don’t want to see you pushed dirtside because you know something that the higher-ups don’t.”

You smiled a little, “Aw, shucks, doc. I had no idea you wanted me around so bad.”

“Dammit, Y/N,” he rolled his eyes, accent thick at your flippant response. “You know what I meant. You’re just trying to be evasive.”

You took a breath, keeping your relaxed expression, “Leonard, trust me, this was not an unsanctioned expedition. I helped keep the Nibirans away from the volcano in case Spock couldn’t prevent the eruption, like we talked about, I just happened to be given a secondary assignment, which I also completed.”

McCoy furrowed his brow, “Secondary assignment? From who?”

“That’s classified,” you said simply.

“Classified, my eye!” he scoffed. “Your whole damn file is classified!”

In an instant, your attitude toward the doctor changed. Gone was your casual posture and simple, friendly smile. In your place was the same stone-faced, steel-eyed instructor he’d faced during Basic Training 2-817.

“Doctor McCoy,” you said firmly. “I don’t appreciate you poking around my file. There’s absolutely nothing in there that pertains to your field of work here on the Enterprise.”

“Excuse me?” his eyebrows quirked. “I’m the chief medical officer on this ship! Your file is supposed to contain information on your medical and physical history, and when I can’t read it, there’s a problem! What if something happened to you?”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you insisted. “That information is classified, admiral or higher access only, for a damn reason. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stick your nose where it didn’t belong and stopped being so stubborn about it.”

“Like you were so hesitant to leaf through my file, or any of ours! How are we supposed to trust each other if we can’t tell each other things? That is what colleagues are supposed to do, you know!”

“Simple,” you shrugged. “You let this whole thing go and trust me. I wouldn’t let you or any of your medical staff near me at all if I didn’t do the same for you.”

Leonard wanted so much to fight you on this. It wasn’t that unreasonable to ask for the CMO to be able to read the medical needs of one of the crew. Was he being a bit of a stubborn ass? Maybe, but only out of concern, and not entirely for you at this point.

He was jolted from his thoughts when you steered him toward your door.

“Take my advice, Doctor McCoy,” you said, ice lacing your words as you stared him down with firm disapproval. “Classified things are kept behind walls for a reason. Don’t go trying to knock them down…you’ll live longer.”

Your door slid shut with a finalizing swoosh. He stood there for a moment, questioning what you could possibly mean, before he headed back towards the medbay for the trip back to San Francisco.

There was something ominous about all this secrecy, and if your words were right, it was putting the crew at risk.

He needed to know what you had been looking at on Nibiru, and he needed to know just how much trouble you’d all be in for it.

-

You kept your expression positively neutral as you sat across from Admiral Pike. He looked over the separate report you had written on the Nibiru mission, though he wasn’t reading much about the volcanic incident.

“So you deleted the Carraya file,” he said bluntly.

“And destroyed the hard chip,” you nodded. “That should be the last of all my old reports.”

He sighed, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should share your approval of the assignment’s completion. You tilted your head as he leaned on the arm of his hoverchair.

“Sir? Is everything alright?”

“Y/N,” he said. “I can understand your...aversion to these files still being out there. I know you were eager to transfer to Starfleet’s main division.”

“I know,” you nodded. “It’s only logical to get rid of as many of those mission reports as possible. We don’t need them anymore, anyway. Admiral Marcus authorized-”

“Which is wonderful,” Pike said. “I’m glad you have the opportunity to start your own path...but don’t you think it’s a little detrimental?”

“Sir?”

Pike looked out his window, lost in thought. “You have a lot of dirt out there, Y/L/N. Lots of ghosts. But you know ghosts don’t become a problem unless they’re disturbed. We never asked you to do this...no one is asking you to dig all this back up for termination. I’m worried that this process of destroying these reports will destroy you in the process.”

“It’s fine, now,” you assured him. “Carraya was the last one, and it’s gone. All my ghosts can be laid to rest.”

He didn’t look like he believed you in the slightest, and that was what worried you.

“Is something wrong, Admiral?”

Pike’s normally confident gaze looked troubled as it turned on you, “Archanis. The Archanis file is unaccounted for.”

Your stomach dropped.

“I see,” you steeled yourself into not running out and throwing up. “...Are you positive? That one was kept-”

“-in the Themyscira Zone, I know,” he said. “Themyscira has been compromised, Y/N. There was an attack in London today...beneath the Kelvin Museum.”

In spite of the sudden wave of grief that hit you, you showed no emotion on your face.

“Ah. ...Any word about-”

“Dead. All dead,” Pike kept his eyes on his desk as he shook his head. “Every last one of them, and Archanis was left unaccounted for in the wreckage.”

“Will there be a directive to search for it?” you asked. “...Will I be asked to leave the Enterprise?”

“No,” Pike looked at his clock and directed his hoverchair around the desk, prompting you to stand. “No, Marcus hasn’t discussed it with us yet. I’ll keep you posted, if he decides to leave you out of it. I have another appointment, so we’ll have to discuss it later if you’d like more information.”

“Of course,” you nodded as Pike opened the door for you, waiting in the threshold as you backed out of it. “Thank you, Admiral. I’ll stay in touch.”

“Hey, Y/L/N,” Jim waved as he and Spock approached Pike’s office. “Doing okay?”

“I’m well, Captain,” you said. “Have fun in your meeting, boys.”

You held your dress uniform hat tightly in your hands until you left the building, counting your steps as you walked. You were surprised to see Leonard waiting on a bench just outside.

-

Leonard picked up his pace just so in order to reach the young ensign.

“Mr. Chekov,” he asked, catching the young man’s attention, “may I ask you something?”

“Of course, Doctor,” the Russian nodded, stalling his pace and facing the older man. “What is the issue?”

Chekov may have made an excellent bright-eyed young navigator, but very few among the majority of the crew knew of his expertise and tactics, as well. It was common knowledge for you to be seen chatting with the younger officer, falling into step in a sibling-like arrangement of coffees on stations and gentle reminders to avoid troublemaking ensigns. 

If anyone on that ship knew what your deal was, it would be him.

“I wanted to talk to you about Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N,” he ventured carefully.

Pavel nodded, curls bouncing, “Yes, she told me that you two had...a conversation.”

“Conversation might be putting it lightly, kid,” Leonard mumbled, mostly to himself. “I was just wondering-”

“I’m sure it will not be too difficult to gain her forgiveness,” the young blond suggested. “She is fond of you, you know. You both seem to have a...how you say...spunk about you.”

Leonard was caught off-guard, “What- No, that wasn’t what I meant. I mean, yeah, I wanna patch things up, but I actually meant-”

“You know, when in doubt, my father always said that vodka is the best way to mend a-”

“I’m not asking about her taste in liquor, kid,” McCoy huffed, “I just want to know what her deal is about anything that has to do with her damned career history!”

Chekov sobered-- so he was aware, at least partially. McCoy wasn’t able to glean from the ensign’s troubled puppy eyes exactly what he meant, but whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant.

“Miss Y/L/N has...very much compassion for all of us, you know?” Chekov measured his words carefully, “She has said she would do anything to keep us safe. I do not know what she is trying to keep from us, but I have asked her about it before, and if she would rather keep it private, I see no reason to press for access. It has not gotten in the way of your medical procedures?”

“No, but-”

“Then the best way to earn her forgiveness, I think, is to respect her privacy,” Chekov said. “She has already proven herself to Starfleet as a capable protector and security officer. Why push so hard to take away what she views as necessary to protect us?”

McCoy receded into his own thoughts as the ensign headed off towards the engineering buildings; he hadn’t seen it that way at all. Where she had seen necessary precaution, he had seen a rogue operative...and now he’d possibly lost her friendship over his own bull-headedness.

_Great job, McCoy,_ he thought bitterly. _That’s the second woman you’ve fucked up interacting with in the last five years._

He saw a chance at redemption, though, when he spotted you coming out of the administration building, clutching your hat in front of you and having the distinct expression of being the witness to a particularly malevolent spirit.


	3. Galatea

The Bones Debacle was not the issue you wanted to deal with the most in the exact moment you left the Starfleet Administration building. You had far more important things on your mind: _Archanis missing? The Themyscira Zone attacked?_ A simple quarrel with a nosy and handsome doctor didn’t feel like the most pressing thing in your life at all, so you kept your head down and walked at a somewhat quicker pace than normal in the direction of your San Francisco apartment.

“Y/N, wait,” Bones jogged to keep your peace, but you kept your eyes ahead of you.

“Doctor, I’m not in the mood.”

“Dammit, I’m here to apologize!”

You pursed your lips and quirked your eyebrows, “That’s a first.” He huffed as you slowed, giving him an opening to catch his breath.

“Yeah, well...wait a second, you don’t think I’m that stubborn, do you?”

He looked sincerely concerned that you might think so lowly of him, so you quickly mended his incorrect assumption, “Oh, I think you’re something, Doctor. I just...now isn’t really the time. Do you think we could have this discussion later?”

“I-“ he looked like he wanted to argue and push on your evasiveness, but he suddenly noticed that you hadn’t released the iron grip on your hat since you had acknowledged him. “Y/N...did something happen in there? Are you...did Pike say something to you about that whole ‘secondary assignment’ thing?”

Your knee-jerk defensive response caught in your throat. If McCoy hadn’t been looking at you with that sincere concern all medical division officers had, it would have been a lot easier to coldly shut down his further questions.

“More or less,” you stopped walking altogether and looked away as you spoke. “It’s above your clearance grade, of course...but I messed up. I didn’t think ahead enough a few years ago, and I left something somewhere that wasn’t safe enough.”

“But you’re not in any serious trouble?”

“I’m not...physically. Yet,” you admitted. That only seemed to make him more confused, but he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t really know what that means, but if you need someone to talk to...about whatever you can, I guess...I’ll listen.”

If you knew at all what affection felt like, you’d say it felt like the doctor’s hand on your shoulder.

You felt like it might be proper to thank him for his offer, but both of your attentions were pulled away at the sight of a slump-shouldered Jim Kirk sulking out of the Admin building with his eyes steely and laser-pointed on the ground.

“Jim!” Bones waved the blond over, and Kirk straightened his frame and plastered a smile on at the two of you.

“Hey Bones,” he smirked. “Did I walk in on a moment?”

You rolled your eyes as Bones let out a very tired sigh.

“Not the time, Jim. You doing alright?”

Jim opened his mouth, but his cheery mask cracked, revealing frustration and sadness behind his eyes.

“Pike’s taken the Enterprise from me because of Nibiru. I...I’m required to go back to the Academy.”

Your jaw dropped as Bones’ eyes widened almost comically.

“Oh no. Hell no. You are not leaving me in that death vacuum with that green-blooded hobgoblin!” The doctor griped.

“Don’t act like you’ll be all on your own. I’m sure Y/N will be happy to give her favorite doctor some extra special attention.”

“Keep talking and you’re gonna need a doctor,” you deadpanned as Bones flushed in the corner of your eye. 

“How long do you think it’ll take before you get back out in the black?” Bones shook his head and reentered the conversation. 

Jim shrugged his shoulders and looked off to the side, trying to keep his sadness limited to his eyes, “It’ll only be a year or two of classes...but I definitely won’t get the Enterprise back right away once I’m done, if Pike has anything to say about it.”

You frowned with a huff, “That’s it, there’s been too much shit today. I say we all grab a drink tonight and try to relax.”

“I definitely won’t turn away a drink,” Bones seconded. Jim seemed to hesitate, not quite in his usual upbeat mood, but after a moment, he nodded in agreement. 

“I guess I won’t be seeing you guys for a while, anyway,” he said. “Might as well enjoy a night or two together before we get split up.”

For once, Jim was 100% right. It may not have been the time to bring up that you might also be called away from the Enterprise, but you were not the pressing matter. The pressing matter was maintaining unity, even in the face of less-than-fortunate events.

Unity, after all, was a pleasant alternative to your previous work experience.

-

You and Bones, of course, didn’t pry at Jim when he went to sit at the bar-- something about giving you and Bones space to play nice-- but it was clear that he just wanted the privacy to think.

“He’s heartbroken,” Bones sighed. “The poor kid never meant any harm, dammit.”

“Nobody with a good heart ever does,” you fingered the rim of your own drink, staring into the red liquid with London on your mind. You could feel hazel eyes on your neck, but you didn’t want to talk about it.

If you had your choice, you’d never talk about it ever again.

“I don’t know what Pike spoke to you about,” he said quietly, “but I’m starting to think it has something to do with that thing you can’t tell anyone about.”

You didn’t respond right away, instead saying after a moment, “Dance with me, Leonard.”

“You know I don’t dance,” his eyebrows quirked.

“Then humor me,” you smirked in response. He sighed, not budging, though it didn’t take him long to offer his hand and walk you to an open space in the bar, wrapping his long arms loosely around your waist and swaying you to the music. The muscles in his shoulders were toned in your hands, and you gently traced your thumb back and forth along one as you spoke to him.

“Listen...first and foremost, I want you to know that I completely understand you being...edgy about my file. Certain Starfleet Academy instructors were wary of it, too. I’m not mad at you...now, at least.”

“Y/N-”

“No, let me finish,” your voice was gentle but firm. “I joined Starfleet to protect the galaxy...to protect the beauty that’s out there waiting to be discovered...only problem is, looking closer can reveal lots of darker things underneath. My file is kept private because there are lots of things I’m not ready for the crew to know about me.”

His brow furrowed as he looked at you, hazel eyes clouded with concern, “Darlin’...nobody’s gonna think any less of you.”

You offered a sad smile, “That’s a nice thought.”

You had grabbed at the doctor’s hands on enough away missions to know that they had at least some callouses from the repeated use of hyposprays on patients, but his fingers felt softer as they lazily traced on your back. Everything about him had softened. You weren’t sure whether to feel flattered or make a quip about him getting mushy on you; it all melted away under his sincere gaze. 

He may have his stubborn moments, but you could never ask for a sweeter friend than Leonard McCoy.

“I used to not trust you so much,” he admitted, voice low and intimate in spite of the crowded setting, “but I was wrong. You...I know you feel very protective of the crew. It’s something I can respect and sure as hell relate to. If all you ask from me is not to pry, I can most certainly uphold that request.”

Up close, it occurred to Leonard that you had a very pretty smile, “I appreciate that. Thank you, Doctor McCoy. Perhaps we’re due to start over?”

“Gladly,” he warmly returned your gesture. “I’m Leonard McCoy, CMO of the USS Enterprise.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Security officer and tactical analyst of the USS Enterprise….”

It felt a little wrong, acting like you were certain you were staying without any updates from Pike, but you were feeling selfish, swaying slowly in a little black dress with a handsome doctor with dimples and strong hands and lovely crinkles at his eyes when he smiled. You could take a moment to be selfish.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Pike’s voice jolted you off Cloud Nine and made you turn your head and step back just the slightest from Bones, “and Doctor McCoy. Enjoying shore leave?”

_Wipe that smile off your face, you little shit of a dadmiral,_ you thought.

Instead, you smiled politely and said, “We are, I think after Nibiru, all of us senior officers deserve a little relaxation. Looking for Jim?”

“Both of you, actually, though my message for you is shorter,” he said, adjusting the grip of the cane in his hand. “Admiral Marcus has called a meeting of senior personnel...on the matter we discussed earlier. He’s asked me to ensure you can be there tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded. “Jim’s at the bar, since you’re looking.”

“Of course. Don’t let me interrupt,” he nodded with a knowing smile and headed towards the bar.

“How serious is it?” Bones asked with a grim expression. You almost sighed. That was it; the magic spell was broken, and you two were back to being colleagues.

“It’s high-level,” you measured your words. “Something...out of protocol happened that involves my previous position. Don’t worry about it.”

He gave you a chagrined look, “I always worry about you.” His hands moved back to his sides and you instantly missed the sensation, but you squeezed one as you responded honestly.

“I know.”

-

Instead of your standard Starfleet dress grays, you instead selected your unmarked, black intelligence uniform. After all, you hadn’t been invited as a captain, admiral, or commander-- it wouldn’t make sense to pretend to be one. You kept your back straight and your chin up as you walked into the Admin building, though you were surprised to see Jim Kirk there, speaking with Admiral Pike, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in dress grays.

Actually, surprised wasn’t the right word for it. More like deeply concerned and shaken by his appearance in this setting where your previous position may be a topic of interest.

That’s not really one word, but it fit better than surprised.

You kept your composure as you caught Jim in the elevator.

“Jim?” you asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Pike gave me the opportunity to work back on the Enterprise under him for this mission, Admiral Marcus called this briefing meeting for high-ranking officers only...what are you doing here? What’s with the outfit?”

You responded coolly, “Admiral Marcus called me in for this briefing. It has to do with my former division.”

He gave you a look, but you ignored it well enough that he didn’t question you further.

“So, if Pike is back on the Enterprise, and you’re his Number One, where’s Spock?”

Your question was immediately answered when you both arrived to see Spock already on the upper floor conversing with the captain of the USS Bradbury.

“Never mind then,” you politely dipped past Kirk, giving Spock a respectful nod as you proceeded into the briefing room; the only unmarked seat was by Admiral Alexander Marcus, and you gave him a terse greeting as you sat.

“I apologize that our reunion has to be under such grim circumstances,” he shook your hand, clearly meaning to speak further, but you grabbed his arm under the pretense of familiarity and pulled him closer.

“Why the hell were there still operatives in the Themyscira Zone?” you hissed. “You decommissioned our unit.”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the term classified, Agent,” he said. You wanted to huff at his diplomatic deflection.

Time hadn’t changed Marcus, at all.

Once all the superiors were seated, Marcus opened a holofile with images of the “Kelvin Archive.”

“Thank you all for coming,” he said. “As you may have heard, we can confirm that there was an attack on the Kelvin Archive in London very recently. Luckily for us, we have enough information to get one step ahead on the real issue.

You chewed on your lip as the displayed files in front of you changed, revealing images of the Themyscira Zone. You noticed Jim’s brow furrow, but when he looked to you, you gave your head the slightest shake: a warning.

“Harewood was an operative in our Themyscira Zone retired training grounds and headquarters for elite intelligence operatives...all 299 former Amazon Corps operatives were killed, along with their personnel. Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N is the last remaining graduate of the program. I figured she might have some insight on why our perp was looking to attack.”

You didn’t speak, and you didn’t dare look at Jim or Spock. Retired, he said. Former, he said. 

Jim asked the question burning in your mind, “If the program was retired, what was Starfleet personnel doing down there?”

“JIm,” Pike said sternly. Marcus leveled an icy glare at Jim and waited until the blond was distracted to continue. 

“Fortunately, Harewood admitted to being put up to this attack by a known enemy of Starfleet.”

The next image that popped up on your PADD made you swallow your saliva to keep your gag reflex from retching up your entire day’s meals.

“John Harrison has gone rogue. He was seen in London days before the attack…”

You weren’t listening anymore, just staring at the sharp, familiar face on that PADD with a cold expression. This couldn’t be happening. This was the last thing you wanted. You were not about to storm back into that empty life to chase down Marcus’ so-called ‘John Harrison.’

You were not about to give up the semi-pleasant life you had for one ugly, awful man.

You could see Pike trying to catch your eye, but you couldn’t make yourself move. Every nerve in your body was screaming to run. You needed an out. You needed something.

That something conveniently appeared in the form of an explosion blasting through the glass of the briefing room, throwing you into the wall.

Your ears rang on the impact, and your brain worked overtime to recover and enter threat assessment mode. That was made easy for you by the sight of ‘John Harrison’ standing in a small transport vehicle and shooting at the open hold of the building. The sheer force of your rage at all the lives he was trying to take at once propelled you forward to throw the table up in defense of Pike and Jim and Spock and the others. 

(Maybe not Marcus as much as everyone else, but of course he ended up shielded, as well.)

When he realized it was you standing there, he locked his eyes with yours. He smirked; your stomach lurched. He moved his transport back and began shooting upwards, likely trying to damage the structural integrity of the building. You rushed over to Jim.

“Get as many people as you can outside, I’m calling Bones to alert medical!”

You didn’t give him any more attention, whipping out your comm. Your thumbs shook as you momentarily searched for the correct contact and nearly crushed the button.

“Bones, there’s an emergency at the Admin building!” you yelled into the comm at the grumpy, sleep-deprived answer. “Warn Med HQ!”

“Y/N!” 

Pike barked your name, making you whip your head just in time to see ‘Harrison’ shoot him square in the chest.

An angry, devastated cry ripped from your chest. You wanted to run to Pike and comfort him, but you wanted even more to rip his killer’s head off of his body. Your fist crushed around your comm, and you dropped the metal pieces on the ground, call with Bones forgotten. Spock ran over to you; he was trying to get some kind of message across to you, but blood and anger were boiling too hard in your head. 

The growing fire of the room was now licking at your pants, and you decided the best way to stop that was to break into a run as ‘Harrison’ retreated slickly into his ship; a piece of metal launched from some opening in the building to slow the departure of the ship, but as you lunged out the opening in the building, the craft crashed, and you altered your posture as you approached the ground, past five levels likely blaring red alerts.

To your surprise, Bones had no Starfleet medical with him when you realized it was him running towards you. It occurred to you that your call had ended rather abruptly when you broke your own comm, and he had likely panicked.

“Y/N,” he was breathless, and his hair was messy from sleep-- hell, he was still in his pajamas, but he had a medkit and his hands were on your face, slowing your heartbeat from its overdrive speed. “Are you alright?”

“No,” you shoved him away, “not me, Pike, he- the- he shot Pike- you have to- you have to call- Bones, please- Pike is- he was-”

Your breaths must have been shallow, because he looked directly into your eyes and kept his voice slow and calm.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “It’s okay. I called Med HQ on the way. I just watched you fall out of a building. Tell me what I can do for you right now.”

Nothing in your mind was slowing down. Nothing he was saying was making it through to you. All you could think about was your gravely injured and crippled father figure up there, needing your help desperately.

You made yourself turn around, but your knees gave out as you realized in deep horror what Khan was actually doing when he spotted you.

Phaser blasts had destroyed the building in the shape of one word that struck you to your core...a name you never thought you would ever, ever, ever have to hear again.

**Galatea.**


	4. Decisions, Decisions

Bones prided himself on his learned calm in a crisis. After all, the trip from surgeon to Chief Medical Officer wasn’t exactly for the faint of heart, and he couldn’t get weepy over every single panicked patient come his way; that would only make things worse for them.

Seeing you curled up on the ground, bruised and a little burned and somehow deathly afraid of the seven-letter word that the attacker had burned into the building that you had miraculously survived vaulting yourself out of, however, shook him to his very core.

This was you, after all. Strong, daring, indomitable you. You may not always see eye-to-eye, but he had to respect your dedication and skill.

The way you clutched at his shirt like child, staining it with tears, made him completely unable to ignore the gravity of the situation.

With a subtle tremble in his hands, he did his best to assess you on-site and attempted to coax you into looking up so he could examine your face.

“I need to see if Pike is okay,” your legs were wobbly, but you were trying your damnedest to stand. “I have to go back in there. I have to-”

“Y/N, slow down,” Bones gripped your arms, hoping against hope that you would let the medics and first responders do their job. “You’re gonna overexert yourself. There are medics in there taking care of Pike and Jim and everyone, okay? Let them do this. You don’t have to go back inside. You don’t have to save everyone.”

“But I should,” you mumbled. His heart broke for you, but he looped an arm around your shoulder.

“I think you’re stable enough to walk, thank god. Let’s get you back to your place.”

“But Pike-”

“I know,” he rubbed circles in your trapezius as he guided you away from the building, “I know. Jim will definitely keep you updated. You need to rest.”

You numbly dragged your feet as he helped you along the concrete to your building. Vaguely aware of your actions, you let Bones hand you a warm mug of something strong and wipe away the grime from your face.

“Okay,” he said after looking you over one last time. “Your bruising is...actually clearing up faster than I expected. You’re pretty durable, darlin’.”

You didn’t want to be durable. Galatea was durable. In that moment, if you had your way, you would have made yourself fragile as glass.

“I’m going to head back to the med center and see if they need a hand taking care of casualties...check on Jim, for sure.”

Without hesitation, you took one of his large hands in both of yours.

“Wait,” you said, voice quiet and pleading, “I...um...I don’t need help or anything...I just….”

You didn’t have to say a word, and he understood what you meant.

“I’ll stay with you. Not like I’m scrubbed up for medical work, anyway.”

He tugged in reference at his thin white t-shirt before pouring himself a cup of what you decided was decaf (for the late hour, most likely) and settling next to you on your couch.

“So...do you want to talk about it?” he offered. “It’s probably against all kinds of protocol, but I am certified in crew counsel.”

You stayed silent for a long time, and he sighed-- after all the classified business, he hadn’t expected you to be the opening up type, anyway-- but after licking your lips, you decided to speak.

“Leonard...I don’t know why that conference was attacked. It shouldn’t have been. The topic of the meeting...meant that only select people were going to be able to discuss details. And I’m not unfamiliar with the assailant.”

“You knew the guy?” Bones’ eyebrows inched upward.

“I don’t know how or why he was here,” you suddenly tensed back up. “I don’t know how he found me…. All he should know about me is off the books because I’ve been destroying the files about it...without permission from the higher-ups.”

You didn’t want to look at him because you knew the exact face he would be making. The same one he gave Jim when the captain had a tough choice to make and was about ten seconds away from picking the riskier of the two.

“...Whatever happened up there is not your fault.”

“Maybe not,” you took a long sip of your drink, “but it certainly would have been better if I wasn’t there.” 

“...Why did that word scare you so much?”

Bones wasn’t sure if you were going to start sobbing or perhaps start choking him out for asking, so he kept still and tentative, but listened to see if you were willing to speak.

“Leonard,” you kept your tone even, but there was nothing threatening about it. “If- When Starfleet decides to pursue Harrison...there’s a good chance that lots of things about me are going to come to light...things I’d rather you not be aware of."

“Y/N, nothing could change the way I think of you.”

He thanked his lucky stars he didn’t pull that oft-expected Freudian slip he suspected himself about to make back in the bar not too long ago.

You seemed to decide he didn’t exist after that, and that was what bothered him the most.

It was early the next morning that you heard the rapping on your door. Something in you briefly jolted in defense at the weight over you, but you quickly realized it was only Leonard’s cheek on your head and his arm around you; you must have fallen asleep together.

You couldn’t be sure who had dozed off first, considering that you would have rather forgotten the entire last night altogether, but you gently untangled yourself as best you could without disturbing the doctor and padded to the door, mug in hand-- you’d return it to the sink after greeting your guest. Hoping that it would be good news, you opened up to see who your guest was.

As usual, your hopes were wrong.

Jim was standing just outside the threshold with red-rimmed eyes and messy hair. Oh, yes, his uniform was put together, but there was a subtle quake in his shoulders, and he could barely bring himself to look at you.

When the words left his lips, the sound of your mug shattering on the ground snapped Bones awake, and he rushed to see you bent on the ground in the doorway, shoulders shaking as Jim did his best to comfort you.

-

As you sat at eye level with the cold body of Christopher Pike, the tightly clasped hands in front of your mouth made a dam for your thoughts, wavering rapidly between sorrow and unbridled rage.

“Y/N,” you felt Bones’ hand on your shoulder, waking you from your reverie. “You wanna take a walk with me?” 

You didn’t ever want to leave Pike behind again, but you suspected ignoring his request would just make him grumpy, so you nodded and kept your eyes in front of you as you counted steps in your head.

“I can’t say how sorry I should be, considering I don’t really know how close you two were...but I know you were close.”

“Father,” you said quietly. “He was like my father.”

“Yeah, that seemed to be his MO, if Jim’s stories meant anything.”

“He’s dead, Bones,” you said seriously. “Pike is dead, and Harrison knew I was watching when he killed him. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

“Don’t,” Bones whirled you to face him and took your arms. “Don’t start that...no. He wanted to hurt as many people as he could. Pike’s death is not on you. Don’t put that on yourself.”

There was a split second that you wanted to break down and divulge everything to make him understand just how much you didn’t deserve him trying to come to your defense, but you held your tongue.

One slip. One slip and he might never want to speak to you again.

“There’s a reason they call it survivor’s guilt,” you said flatly. “Though, quite honestly, this is more like survivor’s rage.”

He furrowed his brow, “Y/N, that’s not healthy, either...don’t tell me you actually want to go after that guy.”

“It’s my problem,” you admitted. “I can do it. I can fix it myself.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“Well, I might,” you pulled back and crossed your arms. “That’s how it works, seeing as I am the last of the Amazon Corps. I don’t get to decide, at this point.”

His confusion made you freeze.

“What the hell is the Amazon Corps?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you were almost grateful to spot Scotty jogging up to Jim and Spock with a very familiar device.

“Where did you get that?” you ran to meet them, leaving a frustrated and confused Bones in the dust.

“The portable transwarp beaming device?” Scotty looked at you with surprise. “Lass, where in the hell did you just come from? You look like you and the doctor finally had a little-”

“No questions,” you said pointedly. “Where did you get it?”

“The wreckage from last night,” Jim hastily explained. “He was just about to tell us where the last coordinates went.”

“43.89.26.05,” Scotty pointed at the readout.

Your brow converged in frustration at the intimately-familiar coordinate readout.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you growled, breaking into yet another run towards Marcus’ office.

The admiral had some explaining to do.

-

“Well, you never were one for subtlety, Lieutenant Commander,” Marcus said dryly as you stood angrily over his desk, both hands planted firmly on the cool metal to widen your frame.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, sir,” you said sharply. “Two hundred and ninety-nine of my sisters are dead because of your stubborn conspiracy, my mentor is dead, and now your so-called ‘prime soldier’ in your made-up war is on Qo’noS itself!”

“I’m glad you’re so fired up about it, though,” he said, tone even despite your defiance. “I think you’ll be the best person to take care of this quietly.”

“I’m not your lackey, Marcus,” you glared. “That’s the whole reason I left the Amazon Corps. I’m not going to insert myself back in your twisted game.”

“But it’s not a game, and you know it,” he reminded you. “You remember Archanis? I don’t need to show you that file to know you remember what you had to do there.”

**“I AM NOT HERE TO TALK ABOUT ARCHANIS,”** you bellowed. “I am here to try and persuade you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

“And I want to keep you from doing the same,” he warned. “If I don’t spill the beans about you, you know that Khan will. And I’m a lot more likely to keep your dirty little secrets, so I’d be awfully nice to me."

Your blood wasn’t sure if it wanted to run red-hot or ice-cold, but you knew for sure you were mad. Even now, he still had a way to keep you under his thumb.

“This is a bad idea,” you said firmly as you turned toward the door. “Go through with it, and remember who made me this way.”

There were indents in the metal from where your hands had gripped it, but Marcus didn’t seem concerned with it as you stomped out of his office.

-

“Y/N, your blood pressure’s through the roof.”

“I noticed, Bones,” you frowned, turning around so that the doctor hovering behind you would put his damn tricorder down. “Just like I noticed how I might not be fit to head out so soon. Why the hell is Jim even taking us back out already? He was wrecked just a few days ago.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to get back into the swing of things,” Bones suggested wryly. “Maybe he’s trying to throw himself off a cliff into the mouths of the Gorn.”

“Dear god, I hope not,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Every time he does something insane, I’m usually the one swinging in and saving his ass. He does know that, right?”

“You...you are aware you have an entire crew of security personnel who can do that for you while you grieve, right?”

“I won’t ask anyone to put themselves in danger if they don’t have to,” you said seriously. “Not while that monster is still out there.”

“Stop talking like that,” Bones said in as soft a voice as his gruff drawl would allow at a volume only meant for you. “You don’t have to do any of this by yourself, alright? Screw whoever is telling you otherwise."

“It’s not that simple, Bones,” you replied, continuing your walk to the shuttle. “My past work doesn’t always allow for that kind of decision.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “Yet you can decide to destroy whatever of your classified files that you want.”

Your eyes grew hard at his retort as you hissed, “Because the only man who knew that I was doing that is dead, now.”

He looked like he instantly regretted his words, but he didn’t know how to apologize to you in this time of turmoil for you. You busied yourself with a distraction for the doctor and spotted Jim tersely heading into the shuttle yard.

“I think Jim’s in need of a little of your good old-fashioned Southern wisdom.”

Bones looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, instead giving your shoulder a mindful squeeze before heading off to talk to Jim. You took a moment to breathe and think about how to navigate your next interaction with the doctor, until a familiar blond curtain of chin-length hair caught your eye.

“Carol!”

Your mood perked up instantly as you approached the blond munitions specialist, who greeted you with a pleasant smile.

“Y/N, it’s been too long,” she said. “I saw you talking to that moody-looking man. You never told me you found a-”

“What? Me? Leonard?” You suddenly felt uncharacteristically flustered. “Oh, no, that’s not- no, we’re not a thing. I mean, we’re friends, but that’s the extent of...things.”

You instantly blocked out the nagging voice in your head reminding you how much you enjoyed dancing with the doctor just a few days before.

“Anyway, where are you headed?” you switched the subject faster than a reckless captain breaking the Prime Directive.

“The Enterprise, actually,” she began walking towards your shuttle.

You had to laugh a little, “Your dad let you get on my ship? Or, I guess more appropriately, Jim Kirk’s ship?”

“See,” her eyes took on a half-concerned, half-mischievous sparkle, “my father...doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Alexander Marcus hasn’t unfairly stuck his nose in someone else’s business? That’s a first.”

“He’s given Captain Kirk command of some...interesting weapons, and I wanted to know why he wouldn’t let me at least take a look at them.”

This struck you in a way you weren’t prepared for as you realized what she was talking about, but you put your espionage background to use and faked a confused expression.

“Oh, really? What kind of weapons?”

“72 high-grade long-range missiles...no other Starfleet ship has been equipped with them.”

Your stomach dropped.

Marcus had made your ship a sitting piece of bait for Khan, and you couldn’t tell a soul without risking exposure of everything you wanted to keep silent.

That was a decision you were certainly not prepared to make.


	5. Family Reunion

It’s not hard for you to slip into a false comfort as you fall into step with Carol on the way to the shuttle. Sure, you were more than a little rattled, but this was one of your best friends in the world. Soon enough, your fear fades to a dull alarm in the back of your head as you get lost in conversation with Carol about old jokes and London and the few good memories you have.

When you board the shuttle, the captain and Commander Spock were in the first row, with one space between them. Bones, as you kind of expected, was seated in the middle chair behind Jim, scanning him over a hundred times.

“Bones, get that thing off my face,” Jim grumbled. You had to laugh a little at Leonard’s half-insulted, snarky expression as he sat back in his seat.

“Captain Kirk,” Carol nodded; she instantly captured Jim’s attention, and you weren’t surprised that she did. “I’m Dr. Carol Wallace. I’ve been assigned to the Enterprise. Do you mind if I sit down?”

Jim looked to you, clearly not aware that, contrary to popular belief, you had friends outside himself and the curmudgeonly doctor behind him. You nodded in response. 

“She checks out. She’s an old friend.”

Jim gave Spock a look before gesturing to the seat beside him, “Please.”

“I’m...not even going to ask what’s going on between those two now,” you muttered as you slid into a seat beside Bones. He looked between his tricorder and you before he turned slightly your way.

“Listen, Y/N, about what I said--”

“Forget about it,” you smiled. “I’m a compartmentalizer. I can deal with it.”

He looked a little concerned that you had made that your response to his attempted apology, but he said nothing of it as the last remaining crewmen filed aboard and took their seats. When the shuttle doors closed, he kept his eyes down, but coughed in his throat and nudged your knee with his hand.

“Oh, right, sorry,” you said quickly, letting him wrap his hand around yours. Even if you’d never been on the receiving end of his so-called ‘magic hands’ (at least with that intention in mind), you had to admit, his hands were large and warm and seemed to curve just so around yours, as comfortable as could be.

“Lieutenant Commander, are you emotionally well?” Spock asked.

“Sorry, what?” you raised an eyebrow at the Vulcan.

“I do not mean to assume,” he looked down into your lap, “but you and Doctor McCoy have been considerably more physically affectionate since the tragedy at the Administration building.”

As you choked on your own spit, the doctor sputtered, turning as red as the division marks on your shuttle jumpsuit.

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“Yeah, Spock, what the hell,” Jim practically deadpanned. “They’re always like this.”

“JIM!!!”

Spock frowned to the side, “My apologies, captain. I merely assumed that some humans were more adept at containing their illogical physical urges than others.”

Your eyes widened at the unexpected swipe.

“Oh my god, are they fighting?” you muttered.

Bones was too red and grumbly to respond. Carol giggled a little in her seat, but said nothing to you. 

“He has aviophobia, Spock. You know, fear of dying in things that fly?”

“Yeah, Spock, Bones just copes with good old fashioned TLC.”

“Don’t make me bring up your most recent vaccination list, Jim,” Bones growled.

Even if the captain reeled himself back in at that remark, you couldn’t help but wonder why this always seemed to keep happening to the two of you when you were obviously just being friendly.

And nothing more.

And that was fine.

Just fine.

-

“All weapons systems are functioning if we are engaged, Lieutenant Commander,” Chekov showed his PADD to you once you were all suited up in your proper red uniform.

“Everything?” you raised your eyebrows, thoughts of seventy-two torpedoes swirling in your head.

The Russian scratched the back of his neck; it made you think of Leonard. “Well, all except the torpedo delivery from Admiral Marcus. Mr. Scott has not cleared them, yet.”

You sighed a little, “I’ll look into it, you head on up to the bridge and make sure we’re on the right course. See you up there.”

He nodded and offered you a friendly smile before walking to the turbolift.

You weren’t sure what angle you might take or even how much you approved of the torpedoes being on board at all, but it wasn’t your call to make-- it was Scotty’s. Even if you weren’t quite sure why you had them-- maybe to ensure your demise, maybe to lure in that monster-- none of your thoughts mattered until Scotty said yes or no.

This is why your expression hardens infinitely when you see Scotty leaving the ship for the docking station, head hanging a little as Keenser followed behind.

“Jim,” you frowned as the captain jumped at your venom-laced voice, “tell me you did not just screw over our chief engineer.”

He gaped at you a little, as though he hadn’t expected you to have an opinion before he gave you an equally hardened sigh, “Admiral Marcus said we’d need those missiles for our mission. These gentlemen say the specs are classified, and Scotty wouldn’t approve them without it, so I took care of it.”

You placed your hands on your hips, “So, you relieved Scotty of duty?”

“He resigned.”

“That doesn’t make it better!”

Jim looked like he was trying to keep his tone even with you, “Look, you understand classified information, I assume? I don’t just need Scotty’s approval, I need yours, too. I don’t want to have to push you to the same decision, but whether you like it or not, I want to be leaving this dock with those torpedoes.”

You were good at battles, sure, but you also knew when to pick them and when to fold. 

And if you’d picked this battle, a whole lot of people were probably going to end up dead.

“Jim, you’re upset, I am, too,” you said carefully. “I have no information on where we’re going or why Marcus gave you these missiles, but they’re here, now.”

“That’s not a yes, Y/L/N.”

“And it’s not a no,” you grew quiet as you ran a hand along the smooth metal of the nearest torpedo, wondering just what Marcus wanted Jim to do with what was inside, “but if we’re doing what I think we’re doing, you’ll want these torpedoes on board.”

You were surrounded by Section 31 agents. You weren’t going to show all your cards just yet.

Jim closed his eyes as he released a breath, before he clapped a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you for understanding. I promise I’ll consult you before I do anything.”

“I hope so.”

That was all you felt you could leave him with to keep yourself from popping his head off.

-

There was something weighing on Jim. You could tell that from the moment he stepped onto the bridge, both him and Nyota brushing past Spock like he was the plague. You, however, weren’t about to push the issue. You were both grieving, and his journey wasn’t one to intrude on. Besides, it wasn’t like you were Ms. Sensitive, anyway. Considering your past history dealing with uncomfortable situations, you were probably best leaving him be.

“Set a course for Qo’noS,” Jim nodded at Sulu and Chekov, and you suddenly wanted very, very badly to throw up.

So, that was it, then. Marcus had set a very vulnerable Jim out to do his dirty work and clean up his mess. 

Considering that screaming protests across the bridge would probably get you grounded like it had Scotty, you merely kept your lips pressed together in a hard line as Jim had a short conversation with poor little Chekov that saw him nervously leaving his position for the turbolift.

“Captain,” you said quietly, just barely capturing the blonde man’s attention with your uncharacteristically soft volume, “may I speak with you? Privately?”

“Of course,” he nodded, brows furrowed, “we can meet in my ready room.”

You followed behind him, wondering how you could possibly explain why this was the worst possible course of action to take just by you being on board without destroying everything you had built around you.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, settling behind his desk and leaning forward, concern scribbled on his face. 

You took in a breath before you began, “Is that why we have those torpedoes on board? What did Admiral Marcus ask you to do?”

Jim thought for a moment, “...First off, I’m only telling you this because you’re my chief of security and I promised you I would, but yes. I asked to go after Harrison, so he told me to use the torpedoes to take him down from the airspace on Qo’noS and head back before the Klingons can see us. Hopefully. They’re supposed to be usable from warp.”

When you didn’t answer or look at him, he went on, “Mr Spock disagrees with that course of action and would rather we bring him into custody. I guess, seeing as you seem to know...a lot more about this sort of thing than you want to share...I’d like to know your opinion.”

“What do you mean know more than I let on?”

He only shrugged, “That’s all Marcus would tell me. That you had experience with the Klingons before.”

“Yeah, well, Admiral Marcus and I aren’t exactly friends, so I don’t really appreciate that, but he’s right. And I don’t think you’re gonna like what I say next.”

“You’d rather we just not do this?” he raised his eyebrows.

“No, I agree with Spock.”

Jim’s caterpillar eyebrows nearly disappeared into his golden hair as he leaned back and lounged against the back of his chair.

“Wow. Don’t tell Bones. He might consider that a turn-off.”

“Jim!” you felt hot under your collar, “This is serious!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to-- I’m listening now.”

You huffed before you continued, “Knowing his career history, Mr. Spock, most likely, is arguing in favor of what Federation law dictates. I say that those laws in place are there to keep us in check...to keep us from doing terrible things. If we’re seeking to get around those laws, we have to ask ourselves if it’s really worth losing our humanity over revenge. Or satisfaction. Or a power play, or whatever Marcus’ reasoning for asking this of you is. I won’t tell you what to do, but I’ll just tell you that’s my take on it.”

Jim didn’t say anything, which was a first. He merely licked at his lips, turned his gaze aside, and folded his hands together, like he was trying a new approach at captaining and thinking your words through.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” he said. “I hope you know that I do respect and value you as an officer and a friend. There’s no one I’d trust more to keep my crew safe.”

You nodded, “Thank you, Captain.”

You had no way of knowing what he was thinking, but knowing Jim Kirk, that was sometimes for the best. ...Maybe not in this case, but sometimes.

You went back to your station, making the proper arrangements for basic defense in the case of action, and you almost didn’t notice Jim returning to his chair.

“Mr. Spock,” he said, catching the attention of both you and the first officer, “what do you think the numbers are on getting the Klingons to turn Harrison over to us?”

“Improbable, Captain, though not impossible.”

“Good,” Jim answered, giving you a subtle nod, “see what our options are there.”

You had never felt so relieved in your life.

-

Spock was gone from the bridge when you came back from relaying orders to the missile crew, but you didn’t really make much of it. With this expedition to Qo’noS, you all had important tasks at hand.

Jim, ultimately, had settled on a compromise between Marcus’ orders and the combined advice of yourself and Mr. Spock; there would be a landing team sent to the planet in hopes of retrieving Harrison there, and the missiles would only be launched if he refused to come quietly. Commander Spock, of course, would be joining the captain on the ground, and you were making preparations to join them.

Was sending you head-on into Klingon territory risky considering the last time you interacted with the species? Maybe, but you were the damn security chief. Protecting the crew in uncertain territory was your job.

The ship jolted, and you grunted as you were nailed in the stomach by your workstation.

“Mr. Sulu?” Jim asked, just as confused as you.

“Engineering manually pulled us out of warp, sir,” Sulu reported. Jim frowned as he flipped open his communicator.

“Mr. Chekov, did you break my ship?”

You heard some very Russian warbling from the other end that didn’t really placate you.

“What in the hell is going on?” Bones appeared from the turbolift to stand by your station.

“You know that thing where this is the one ship where easy things are somehow made improbably complicated?” you asked.

He grumbled, “This is already damn complicated.”

“We’re still 20 minutes from Qo’noS, sir,” Sulu announced. “Proceed as planned?”

“Yes, Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Uhura, let’s go grab Spock and some more incognito attire.”

“That’s my cue,” you muttered, nudging a judgy-looking Bones gently in the hip with your own as you followed them to the turbolift, awaiting further orders.

-

**“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON’T WANT ME ON THE AWAY TEAM?!”**

Several crewmen avoided your gaze as you followed the captain and the lieutenant out of the turbolift.

“I need you on the ship to make the call if we have to use those missiles,” Jim assured you. “I don’t doubt that you might be handy if the Klingons want to talk to someone a little more punchy-punchy, but if we’re incapacitated down there, I need you to be available to help Sulu with whatever he decides is the best course from there.”

“Jim, I’ve faced the Klingons before,” you said, grabbing his arm to get his attention. “If you run into them, it doesn’t matter if you look Starfleet or not. They won’t hold back.”

His brow furrowed, “Why would you have been in contact with the Klingons?”

You paused, realized you had spoken without thinking in your frustration.

“...Classified, but I can’t be seen on that bridge when Sulu sends down the warning.”

Giving you an up and down look that felt significantly more like a reevaluation than an account of opinion, he said firmly, “I stand by my decision. I need you here.”

He didn’t say anything else as he turned again to retrieve his other clothes, and you felt something sick start to sink in as you realized you’d slipped up-- big time.

“We’re all a little tense right now, Y/N,” Nyota patted your arm. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to offend you.”

“I know,” you said, giving her a sigh and a smile of good luck before you headed back to the turbolift and the bridge.

Sulu was setting up the com burst when you arrived, Bones standing behind him like a proper makeshift-first-officer. He certainly looked the part, all stern expression, folded arms, broad shoulders, and that jawline….

_Agh, no, bad,_ you scolded yourself. _You’re in damn Klingon airspace and you’re ogling the CMO. Good call, trained Amazon operative._

“This is Captain Hikaru Sulu of the USS Enterprise,” Sulu announced. “Currently, there is a wanted fugitive of the Federation hiding on your planet. I have 72 high-grade, state-of-the-art missiles trained directly on his location if he is not turned over within the hour. I highly recommend that you comply, because if you test me, you will fail.”

You nodded in respect as Sulu signed off from the message, “If that doesn’t spur the Klingons into complying, I don’t know what will.”

“Yeah, remind me not to piss you off, Mr. Sulu,” Bones said. “No more random physical assignments for you. I’ll tell Chapel to move you to appointment only.”

You, however, got caught on one word of his statement that made your heart stop.

_ Random. _

_ Random. _

**_Random._ **

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Klingon-standard random security sweeps.

That was Section 31-only information for briefing, and there was likely no way that Marcus had warned Kirk about them before sending the crew to Qo’noS.

They were going to be attacked on all sides by the Klingons and Khan and who fucking knows what else?

Bones cast a concerned eye to you as he watched you disappear into the turbolift.

-

The doctor had knocked maybe eight times, with no response from your quarters. He gritted his teeth, quietly cursed the paperwork in his head, and typed in his medical override input on the keypad by your door.

“Y/N, are you alright? You just walked off the bridge, and we’re kind of in the middle of-- what are you wearing?!?”

He gaped a little at your short-sleeved tactical gear, all black, save for the red lining on the collar and sleeves and some gold detail on the wing-shaped clasps. Unmarked, indeed, but nothing like the pirate’s gear that Jim, Spock, and Uhura had disembarked wearing, and the way you didn’t even fumble for the zipper at the back of your neck meant that this likely wasn’t the first time you had worn this...sleek black thing.

“They’re called clothes, Bones,” you said, barely paying any attention to him as you tugged on boots and tactical gloves. “People wear them most of the time.”

“That doesn’t-- You didn’t-- Where are you going?!”

You, while he was being stunned and sputtery, had packed phasers in your thigh holsters, snapped your silver braces onto your wrists, and slid your sword into the sheath on your back.

“Out.”

As you headed off down the corridor, Bones followed behind you.

“What do you mean, out? There is no out! This is space, dammit!” His eyebrows came together as he realized what you actually meant, “You wanna beam down to Qo’noS?! Are you crazy? Do you know how bad of an idea that is? They’ll trace it back to the ship before you can bat your eyelashes!”

“I’m not going to bat my eyelashes at the Klingons, Bones, don’t be so dramatic,” you said, lifting one sleeve to reveal your own portable transwarp beaming band. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Dammit, Y/N, can’t you leave the reckless bull-headedness to--” he reached out to take your hand, but it disappeared from his fingertips in the telltale gold light of a transporter beam, and it felt a little too cold without the familiar pressure. “--to Jim….”

He frowned, wondering just what it was that had you off dirtside in such a strange outfit and such a firm haste.

-

You weren’t really surprised by the firefight on the ground, considering Jim had decided not to bring you along, but you’d have to tell him off for it, later. Right now, you were calculating how best to enter the fray without causing too much of a ruckus.

Although, to be fair, it seemed like Jim and the crew had already caused quite a bit of a ruckus, so you really wouldn’t be adding much to the chaos.

All that changed, though, when...he entered the fray.

You didn’t really need to see his face, so it didn’t really matter that he had kept the hood of his longcoat up, but you knew instantly who it was. Anger and pain coursed through your blood, and even though you wanted to jump up immediately, you were frozen with rage.

When you finally did jump into the fray, it came with a ferocious battle cry that the Klingons seemed to recognize instantly.

_“ghaH Hegh qem 'Iv!”_ Some cried out when they spotted you. _“ghaH Hegh qem 'Iv!”_

Was it kind of a mess? Yeah. Was Spock probably about to pop a vein? Yeah. Was Jim looking a little beyond confused? Oh, absolutely. But, all the Klingons were gone, and now it was just you, your disgruntled co-workers, and him.

“I was told there were 72 torpedoes on board your ship, Captain,” Khan approached Jim, and your blood was boiling too hard for you to stop him. You watched Jim lay swing after wild swing on Khan.

Oh my god, he’s insane, you thought to yourself, watching that sick man not even flinch. Khan raised his hand to beat Jim back, but with a guttural growl, you launched yourself at him in a brazen attack. When you brought up your foot to strike him, he swung his arm to block. You whipped out your sword, hoping to slash those dead eyes right out of his skull, but he merely swung again, sending you flying back into a large stone chunk.

“Y/N!” Uhura called out, flinching at how hard you had hit the rock.

You popped easily out of the stone and cracked your neck, leaving only the silhouette of your frame in the formation.

At least, it was, before you heaved it over your head and chucked it at Khan. He delicately sidestepped it and watched it crumble into the ground. You, however, decided to sheath your sword and point both of your phasers at the arrogant man.

“Really? That’s it?” he looked unimpressed. “You’ve certainly changed.”

“I hate you,” you deadpanned.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Jim glared at you, “I told you to stay on the ship!”

“Isn’t it obvious, Captain?” you spat coldly, keeping your eye trained on the man across from you. “I’m here to keep you from getting murdered by the Klingons and my brother.”


	6. Bad Blood

The shuttle was dead silent as Spock piloted the five of you back up. You kept your eyes on your boots, refusing to look at anyone. You were fairly certain no one wanted to, anyway. A new set of shoes came to stand before your own; it was Jim, jaw hard, lips pressed together. He was more than upset-- he was hurt.

“Why didn’t you say he’s your brother?” 

You didn’t have to look up to see how stony his blue eyes would be.

“I’d like to explain in private, Captain,” you said quietly. 

“That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Captain-”

“Y/N,” he sounded wounded and betrayed, and your heart fell into your stomach as you realized that the end had begun for you, “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Tell me why you never disclosed that Harrison is your brother.”

“Because he’s not,” you said. “Not...naturally.”

“We’ll discuss this more later,” he said after giving you a quiet but frustrated look, and if you weren’t on a ship with two of your fellow bridge officers, your captain, and that man, you might have allowed a tear to slip out.

“Agent Galatea bowing to commands?” Khan’s voice was as condescending as ever. “Whatever did I miss while I was away?”

“Shut up,” you growled. “You’re still under my jurisdiction. I’d be happy to chuck you into the warp core.”

He laughed. It made your blood boil.

When you docked and disembarked back on the Enterprise, Bones was waiting for you.

“Y/N, what happened?” he drank in your weary, worn expression with a little more scrutiny than he might for a patient.

“Not now,” you muttered, brushing past him coldly. He didn’t know what to say. He thought things were getting better. Why did he suddenly seem to be fucking up at every turn when he was trying his hardest to relate back to you?

“Yes, now,” Jim joined the two of you after ensuring that ‘Harrison’ would be properly detained in a cell. “Bones, take Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N and meet Spock and I in my ready room. We have some things to talk about with her.”

You felt hazel eyes on your head, but you refused to meet them.

“Y/N, what is he on about? What did you do down there?”

You kept your voice as steady as possible, “Do you remember how I said some things are better left off as secrets?”

“Yeah...what’s that got to do with anything?”

Your voice was so small, you hardly recognized it, “I told them a secret.”

-

“He’s your brother?!”

“Will you stop saying it like that?” you twisted your body in the chair as the captain, the commander, and the (very very lost) CMO stared you down in Kirk’s ready room. “We know now. Calm down.”

“Tell us everything we need to know about both of you,” Jim said seriously. “Start from the beginning.”

You drank in a long breath. It was now or never.

“Captain, how much do you know about augments?”

Jim furrowed his brow and looked at Spock.

“Augments are a breed of genetically enhanced beings of multiple races, Captain,” Spock supplemented. “There is little known about them other than their creation at the hands of Dr. Arik Soong. The only known group of human augments was the crew of the S.S. Botany Bay, but they were lost at least a century ago.”

“Oh god,” Bones sighed, “don’t tell me you’re secretly immortal.”

“I’m not one of the Botany Bay crew,” you shook your head. “I’m not even close. My father was a geneticist, and he knew I had an interest in Starfleet. I was...maybe seventeen when…” you elected not to say the name out of respect for his memory, “my recruiting admiral came to my house?” You scrunched up your face as you tried to recount the tale. “It’s been a long time. One of the admirals was looking for women interested in joining an elite branch of Starfleet Intelligence that my father had a hand in developing. I wanted so badly to serve on a Starship...so I agreed. And that was when Marcus and my father found the Botany Bay crew and cracked the augment code.”

“And that was the Amazon Corps?” Bones raised his eyebrows. “That division.”

You nodded, “There were three hundred of us, and when they...augmented us, for lack of a better term, with Harrison’s blood, I was the only one to come out with everything Marcus wanted in a soldier. I was his perfect woman. His perfect creation.”

“A veritable Galatea,” Spock understood. 

“Pike helped me into this mess, and Pike helped me out, after Harrison went rogue. I wanted to get on a starship as soon as possible, but Pike was worried about what would happen if I went too far...if Harrison was still out there, he wasn’t sure what I would do or what he would do to my crew.”

“But why would Admiral Marcus want an entire 300-woman fleet of augments?” Jim frowned. “We’re a science and exploration organization.”

“You can’t have a completely clean world without shoving all the dirty parts somewhere,” you chuckled regretfully. “I wanted my whole record wiped, and Starfleet complied, save for one incident. If it got out...I still don’t want to talk about it. Please don’t make me talk about it.”

You weren’t sure if it was your final forthcoming honesty, but Jim’s entire attitude seemed to have softened towards you.

“That’s fine. It doesn’t pertain to this mission, I’m sure. I won’t make you talk about it. I just wanted to know why you…”

“I understand,” you said quietly. “Shouldn’t we go speak to Harrison, now?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for sharing, I really appreciate it,” Jim nodded the four of you towards the door, “Bones, anything you want from him?”

“Blood sample,” he hovered behind you protectively. “I’ll go with you. It’s probably a sensitive sample.”

The three of you headed toward the brig, and you kept your eyes straight ahead of you as you walked, not lingering on either Jim or Spock for too long; Bones had settled his pace just behind your left side. You tried not to be upset that he no longer sought to walk beside you.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, captain,” Khan greeted with a false politeness. “How kind of you to allow me to see my sister, as well. I trust she’s been doing well under your leadership?”

“She’s a remarkable officer,” Jim insisted. “I couldn’t be prouder to have her on my ship. You, on the other hand, are a criminal, and we’re taking you back to Starfleet to be tried as such.”

“Yes, apologies for the mess in San Francisco. A mess, but a necessary one.”

“You killed innocent men and women in that building,” Jim seethed quietly. “I don’t care if it was Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N or Admiral Pike or anyone else you intended to hurt. What you did was unforgivable."

Khan hummed, “So, by that logic, you have absolutely no reason to be proud of that security officer you speak so highly of.”

All three sets of eyes in Starfleet uniforms turned to you. You kept your gaze cold as steel and your jaw clenched firm.

“He’s diverting your attention, Captain,” you advised. “Slippery son of a bitch. I’ll give you all the details later if you can get what you need from him now.”

“It is comforting to see that if Admiral Marcus sees fit to have me rotting to death-- don’t look so surprised, Captain, he would brush anything under the rug as long as it served him-- my intelligence will be passed on by someone competent.”

“I fail to see your ability to bargain and taunt the captain and Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N,” Spock entered the discussion. “You have been detained with no weapons and no leverage.”

“Have you ever lost those you care for, Mr. Spock, was it?” Khan turned his attention to the Vulcan. “If you care for anyone, that is...I’m more than aware of the Vulcan tradition of insistence upon logic above all.”

Spock’s face was as blank as ever, but there was fire behind his eyes.

No, this was not the conversation for him to be having a year after his mother perished in the destruction of Vulcan.

“I fail to see the point of your attempt to elicit emotion from me,” he responded in his typical even tone.

“The point is, Marcus has something very dear to me. And then you told me he gave them to you.”

No one spoke, because everyone knew what he meant.

“Captain, if you seek to understand the kind of monster Marcus is, I suggest you crack open one of those seventy-two torpedoes.”

There was a pregnant pause, and Bones kept his demeanor calm and stony in contrast to his expected biting sarcasm.

“I need to take a blood sample. Hold out your arm.”

Khan complied, and you wish he’d missed the way Bones’ eyes fluttered to you as he pulled out a hypo to contain the sample.

“I can assure you, Doctor, you should be much more worried about the lieutenant commander than me,” Khan tempted. “She was the real killer, between us.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, desperately clinging to your semblance of control.

“Has she told you everything? The great tales of Agent Galatea...there’s a reason even the Klingons feared her. Called her ‘she who brings death’.”

“I said be quiet,” you added, volume increasing.

“How easy it would be, you realize, for her to betray the bulk of you? She doesn’t trust you or anyone else, and she has no right to. She’s something for you to be as fearful of as Marcus himself.”

“STOP SAYING THAT,” you snapped, shoving Bones away with a forceful push and twisting Khan’s exposed arm around, hoping to make him hurt as his face pressed dangerously close to the buzzing energy field. “I AM NOT A MONSTER! I AM NOT THE MONSTER HERE!"

Khan was smirking at you, and you wanted desperately to tear his lips off of his face, “Ask your colleagues. They might disagree.”

When you turned around, all three of the men you called friends were looking at you with varying shades of uncertainty and even fear. Your hands shook as you released Khan’s arm, and you stormed out of the brig, angry at yourself for being unable to control your temper.

What would Jim say about Archanis?

Would they want you off the ship?

And Bones...what would he think when he learned….

No, you didn’t want to face that. You knew he’d hate you beyond repair. They all would.

You locked the door to your quarters, hoping that the lack of humans ogling you and your freak self would stop the tears threatening to prick past your eyelids.

-

“You’re actually gonna listen to him?” Bones frowned at his friend. “Jim, that’s insane.”

The two blues and their fearless captain were lined along the edge of the bridge by the viewscreen, with the doctor pressing his knuckle to his lips in thought as the commander kept his arms folded logically behind him and the captain paced before them both. 

“What choice do we have, Bones?” Jim asked. “What if he’s right? What if Marcus is hiding something?”

“We are already certain that the admiral was not disclosing all the proper credentials for Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N,” Spock reminded Leonard. “There is little reason to doubt that he is attempting to conceal more than merely one former intelligence officer’s record.”

“Y/N asked for people not to know, and it wasn’t our place to pry, anyway,” the doctor defended your reputation without hesitation, though he wasn’t even quite sure what to make of you, anymore.

“Were you not only a week ago bothered by the lieutenant commander’s own defensiveness over her file?” Spock raised that damn eyebrow again.

“You can comment on Bones defending his girlfriend, later,” Jim waved a hand.

“Dammit, Jim, she’s not my girlfriend!!!”

“Do you think you might be able to handle getting one of them open?”

If Bones hadn’t been so thrown by the girlfriend comment, he might be a little more coherent in responding to the bizarre request of his (supposed) best friend.

“What- You can’t- Are you- Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor! Not a torpedo technician!”

“Bones,” Jim reasoned (a rare occurrence, indeed), “you’ve got the steadiest hands on the ship. If anyone should be working inside that delicate kind of machinery, it’s you.”

The doctor let out a huff, “Fine, but if I lose a limb, it’s on you, you corn-fed maniac.”

“Perfect!” Jim grinned, “I’ll call up Y/N and send her down with you.”

“If I may, Captain,” Spock suggested, “you may benefit from sending the admiral’s daughter, instead, seeing as she is a weapons technician.”

“Admiral’s daughter?” Jim asked incredulously, “What admiral’s daughter?!”

Spock looked almost prideful, “Dr. Wallace is Admiral Marcus’ daughter. While you were speaking to Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N about a potential course of action for Q’onoS, I examined Dr. Marcus’ personal files.”

Bones, not quite sure what exactly was real on the damn ship anymore, retired to his quarters. He was going to need the damn shuttle jumpsuit for this latest hare-brained endeavor from his captain.

-

Hesitantly, you approached the lone crew quarters door in the medical level hall.

**Dr. L. H. McCoy, CMO**

Should you knock?

Would he be in there?

Would he ask?

Would he listen?

God, you’d never been so nervous about talking to one person.

Taking a calming breath, you rapped your knuckles on the closed door.

“It’s open,” a familiar voice called from inside. You took that as permission to enter and stepped inside, craning your neck to poke around his space before he walked out from his bathroom--

“FUCKING HELL, MCCOY, MY EYES!!!”

It wasn’t like you’d never wondered what Leonard looked like without a shirt, but, god, that didn’t mean you needed an answer at this exact moment.

“Sorry, I just figured you knew!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, adjusting,” you said, and you lowered the arm that you’d thrown over your eyes.

He was back in his shuttle jumpsuit, though the top was unzipped, sleeves hanging beside his long legs. Lean yet defined abdomen, toned but not bulky arms, and those broad shoulders….

_ You came here for a heart-to-heart, not to stare at him! He’s your friend! _

“Why are you wearing that?” you furrowed your brow.

He seemed to be as less-than-pleased as usual as he leaned on one of his counters, arms crossed, “Jim wants me and Dr. Marcus to crack open one of those missiles. I don’t suppose you know what’s inside so I don’t have to run my hide down to that planetoid and open it.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I wasn’t in the weapons R&D under Marcus. All I know is Khan wants them badly enough to kill for them.”

“Khan?” Bones furrowed his brow. 

“Harrison,” you explained. “John Harrison is just a cover name given to him by Marcus.”

“And you?”

“I wasn’t gonna cover up that much of me,” you quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not that dramatic. That’s your job.”

“Yeah, well, everybody seems to be hiding something, these days,” he grumbled. You averted your gaze; of course he was upset.

“Oh, darlin’, don’t take it like that,” he softened quickly at your dejected expression, taking one of your hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...a lot’s been happening pretty fast. It’s hard to know what to think.”

“No, no, you’re right...it’s not like this is how I wanted it to come out. I never-- if I ever did tell any of you, I wanted it to be on my terms...I guess I can’t even have that.”

“Darlin’--”

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m serious. I know you’re probably upset, and I just want you to know that I hope this doesn’t change...the way we are.”

“And what is the way we are, exactly?”

He probably didn’t mean for it to sound like that, anyway, but it didn’t stop the words from catching in your mind and reminding you that the man you considered one of your closest friends was now very shirtless and very much not across the room from you, anymore.

You can’t stop looking at him.

You can’t stop looking at his face.

All you want is to close the gap between you, but instead, your lips part to start a new sentence and not to welcome his.

“What do--”

“Bones, Dr. Marcus is--”

The both of you tense, and whatever enchantment held you both is broken; Jim’s shown himself in, as usual.

“Oh,” there’s a playful smirk on the captain’s lips when he realizes Bones is without anything on his upper body and there’s certainly not much room between you, “don’t mind me, Bones. You can extend your goodbye if you need to, but just remember we are on borrowed time.”

You’d never seen Bones as red as he turned then, “Jim-- No-- It-- You-- AGH!” He looked at you, half-apologetic and half-pleading.

Instead of answering, you offer what you hope passes for a reassuring smile. 

“His programming will be tricky,” you said. “Look out for the both of you down there.”

You awkwardly patted his pectoral, not really sure of what else to do, and you shot Jim a Murder Look as you brushed past him on the way out, hand tingling the whole way.

-

You weren’t sure if they’d hit dirtside yet by the time you made your way back to the bridge-- you’d made a quick stop to check on Chekov and found your poor young friend frazzled, curls wild, and unable to find a way to fix the apparent coolant leak-- though there was audio playing from McCoy and Carol’s comms below.

“So, Dr. Marcus, how can these legendary hands help you out?”

His tone was...familiar, but not one you heard often. Not one you’d ever heard him speak with outside of you. It made a pit in your stomach, and you didn’t know what for.

“Bones,” Jim warned, clearly also thrown for a loop by McCoy’s question. It made you feel justified in setting your jaw.

“The wiring on this torpedo is extremely delicate. Are you sure you can handle this, Doctor?” Carol asked, tone even and not indicating if she’d responded at all to his question.

“Dr. Marcus, I once delivered some baby Gorn by C-section, octuplets,” he said. “I think I can work some magic on your missile.”

Even Jim looked a little rattled as you made your way over to the captain’s chair, just so you could be sure he heard you, “Need I remind you, Doctor, you’re down there to open a highly sensitive piece of weaponry, not flirt with my best friend!”

You could hear him floundering, and for as annoyed as you were, you smirked a little at Jim’s amused expression.

“Don’t fret, Doctor,” even Carol sounded like she wanted to laugh, “I’m sure if you behave the rest of this little excursion, she’ll forgive you.” 

With all teasing aside, the work began as the audio from the planetoid fell quiet. There was some beeping, likely from the missile, and some gentle instructions from Carol, but as soon as the sudden cry tore from Bones’ throat, your breath caught.

“What’s going on?!”

“Leonard, what happened?!?” you bent down next to the arm of the chair.

“The damn missile closed on my arm, I think it’s set to detonate!”

_ Oh no. Oh no. No, no no no. _

“Jim, you gotta beam Carol back up before this thing blows.”

“No!” you heard Carol down below, “I can fix this!”

“Get a lock on her.”

“Captain, let me do this!”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. You couldn’t argue for keeping Carol down there-- your first and best friend, dead? Absolutely fucking not. But, if she did come back up, then Bones….

You didn’t want to think about what would happen to Bones.

“Jim, send me down, I’ll get him out and run them both as far away as possible,” you pleaded.

“Y/N, I can’t let you down there!” Jim argued. “I’m not risking another one of you.”

“Y/N,” Bones spoke from the comm, “don’t worry about me, alright?”

“Don’t talk to me like you’re gonna die, Leonard! I’m not gonna let you just die!”

You really hoped those damn tears would stay in your eyes this time.

That was kind of ruined, though, when the sound cut out for a moment.

“Bones!” Jim cried, and you clapped a hand over your mouth.

Gone. Just like that, he was gone then. Bones and Carol had to both be….

“I got it!” 

Carol’s joyous shout from below had to be a godsend. 

Jim sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face before he squeezed your shoulder as your head slumped forward in relief, “Is Dr. McCoy alright?”

“I’m fine,” you’d never been so relieved to hear that damned drawl in your life, because it was clear he was talking to you. “Still there, darlin’? I’m alright. Just a little sore.”

“LEONARD MCCOY, I’M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS WHEN YOU GET BACK UP HERE.”

You couldn’t help yourself, and maybe that’s what made Jim smile the most.

“That’s fine. Just give me enough time to show this to Jim, darlin’, because he’s gonna wanna see this.”

-

Bones really didn’t expect anything other than you waiting for him at the shuttle bay when he returned to the ship. You had, after all, loudly declared that you were going to kick his ass. And there you were, arms crossed and suddenly pumping with purpose as you spotted him.

“Do not do that ever again! That was INSANE!!!” you shouted in place of a greeting.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I thought you were ACTUALLY dead for a minute, Leonard!”

“I know, darlin’,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. I can’t help what the evil maniac’s technology does when somebody tries to crack it open.”

Your energy seemed to slacken, and for a moment, he wanted to berate himself for calling the man who shared your blood-- and by extension, you-- an evil maniac, because that was the opposite of what he wanted you to think he thought you were. If he had his way, things would go back to the way they were before, of course, but even he wasn’t sure of what exactly that was, anymore.

“I just...it should have been me. If anyone was going to die, it should have been me.”

“Whoa, hey, no,” he gently took your shoulders in his hands, “don’t say that.”

“No, but it’s true,” you shook your head. “I should have been the one in danger, not you. I’m supposed to protect the crew, and I...I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“Darlin’, why the hell would you ever wanna put your ass on the line like that? Especially for me?”

He realized you could have said a lot of things. You could have blamed self-destructiveness, your protective nature, a desire to make up for whatever past wrongs meant for you, anything at all….

What you did instead surprised him.

“Because-- I just-- I-- UGH!” 

He didn’t know why you were so incredulous, but that didn’t really matter to him, because in the next moment, you’d pulled his lips down on yours, and all his higher thinking muted at the dizzying, sudden display of affection. He’d just barely registered that you were actually kissing him and had begun to respond, but just like that, you drew yourself back in, and even when he craned his neck to follow your head, he couldn’t stop the space you’d put between the two of you again.

“...That’s why,” you looked embarrassed as you fled.

He may not have had any idea where you both stood before, but left alone and a little dazed in the shuttle bay, he knew where he wanted to stand with you, now.


	7. The Things We Do For Love

You kept your eyes firmly schooled on the open torpedo, not really sure how to reconcile what you were seeing with your entire career. 

Was this what you had chosen to fight for? Was this the grand product of it? Humans frozen in torpedoes, effectively killed by their sole survivor? 

Did this really make you just as bad as him?

“So bait,” Jim frowned at the body that was still laying in the cryotube. “Marcus set us up as bait.”

“Not bait,” you shook your head, “he fully expected you to actually pull the trigger on these people, and you almost played right into his hands. If anything, it was the change of heart that made us bait. It’s my fault.”

“You had no way of knowing what would happen,” Jim said. “What happens on this ship is my responsibility.”

You disagreed, but you chose not to say anything. 

“Think you’re gonna talk to Khan about it?” Bones asked. He was asking Jim, you were sure, but he kept his eyes on you. He had nearly the entire time that you and Jim watched him and Carol get a better look at the man in the missile.

You blamed yourself for that, too. You had lost control of your emotions; it was your fault for getting both of your hopes up. 

“He’s not worth any more of your time,” you advised. “We know what he’s trying to do. He wants the torpedos, and who knows what he wants to do with them once he gets the people out of them.”

“We could theoretically just let him leave with them. Go far enough away that he’s not a problem.”

You couldn’t keep the ice out of your eyes as you finally turned to face thoughtful and set hazel ones. 

“Speaking from personal experience, I don’t think Khan is willing to just take his ball and go home. I don’t think Marcus is willing to let sleeping dogs lie, now, either. We’re in this mess, and I don’t know how long we have before Marcus comes after us for it.”

Carol’s eyebrows quirked in realization.

“The Vengeance. That’s our next obstacle.”

“I know Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N is a little less generous than usual at the moment, but--”

“No. My father,” Carol shook her head, “he’s been developing a ship with enhanced warp capabilities-- including mid-warp tracking and firing capabilities.”

“Then he’s certainly already started after us. I’m going to go check on Chekov, see if he’s got things up and running down in engineering.”

“Y/N!”

You didn’t stop when Bones called your name, no matter how much you wanted to. You had a new mission-- protect your crew and the Federation from not one, but two madmen. Protect Jim, protect Carol. Protect Bones….

You had failed at protecting your loved ones once. You would not do so again.

“Y/N, I want to talk to you.”

Damn that doctor. You paused in the corridor at the feeling of Bones’ hand around your wrist, gentle but insistent.

“Doctor--”

“You’re gonna call me Doctor after kissing me like that?”

You had to measure your breath before you turned and responded to him.

“I’m not very interested in talking about that kiss right now. It was a mistake.”

Your heart wrenched at the hurt that surfaced in his eyes, “Mistake?”

“I’m supposed to keep my emotions in check, Leonard!” you snapped quickly. “It wasn’t-- What I feel isn’t important. I have a duty to this entire ship. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I put my emotions above my duty, and I can’t afford to...I shouldn’t...I don’t deserve to have you. Kissing you was...selfish. Just like it was selfish of me to run from my sisters...and now they’re dead. All my selfishness has cost me, no matter what I did to keep it from doing so.”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. You didn’t have to, though, to know that his whole heart was breaking at your words.

“Y/N…”

“Do you know why I don’t talk about Archanis? Do you know why I can’t bear what I’ve done?”

He looked down at your hands. He wanted so desperately to take one and hold it and reassure you.

“It’s hard to answer that when you still haven’t told me anything, darlin’.”

You drew in a long breath before you spoke, but even then, your voice was shaky.

“Because it makes me just as bad as Khan. He was right. One hundred percent right…”

Bones’ brow furrowed, so you went on to explain more….

-

_ “The Klingons took the whole damn research base on Archanis, Galatea!” _

_ Marcus’ voice boomed as he spoke, but you remained perfectly still. You had heard much worse screaming from your own throat. _

_ “I understand, sir.” _

_ “That’s one hundred hostages, and two hundred Klingons this much closer to closing in on us. Do you know what could happen if we get tangled up in war with them?” _

_ “We can avoid it,” you insisted. “It’s one base. I can extract the hostages.” _

_ “One base is one base too many.” _

_ “Admiral, I just need a ship large enough to--” _

_ “You’ll be seen.” _

_ You smirked. “Have I ever been caught before?” _

_ “Hostage situations are different. Extraction isn’t enough.” Your brow furrowed at Marcus’ cold and firm tone. “All two hundred of them...dead. They have to go. It’s too close to call.”  _

_ “Sir, you think the Klingons won’t notice two hundred missing soldiers?”  _

_ “Scientists, Galatea,” Marcus corrected. “Though, you might not be all that wrong. Don’t know if they have much of a distinction.” _

_ “Two hundred bodies is too much to cover,” you set your jaw hard. “It’s easier to just get our people out.” _

_ He walked the length of his desk, silent. It wasn’t a good sign.  _

_ “Three hundred people on Archanis, Galatea. Do you know what it’s like to have three hundred lives in the balance?” _

_ “Is this the part where you tell me how hard it is for you to run the Amazon Corps, sir?” you asked, voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.  _

_ He turned slowly back to you, but you couldn’t read his expression. _

_ “If they got here, you know, that would be three hundred deaths on your hands-- one for each of the Klingons. And I’m certain they’d find a way to take care of those one hundred hostages. Three hundred lives, gone." _

_ You didn’t like where he was taking this.  _

_ “If you’d like to wait, I can help you understand what three hundred deaths feels like.” _

_ Your breath caught in your throat. _

_ “You would sacrifice almost three hundred lives just to prove a point?” _

_ A fist slammed down on his desk, and for the first time in a long time, you physically jolted at the noise. _

_ “We are constantly teetering on the edge of life and loss, Agent Galatea,” he glowered. “If I can’t make you understand with words, I’ll make you understand with your sisters. I need two hundred dead Klingons. You can make it happen." _

_ You nodded, still barely breathing. _

_ It made you less disgusted by the blood that coated your hands, your cheeks, your uniform when you returned home a week later. _

-

You could almost feel the blood dripping from your chin again when you recounted the story, but it was just tears rolling down your cheeks. The wetness was quickly brushed away by a soft pad on your face; when you were more aware of yourself, you quickly realized that Bones was wiping them away.

You gently pulled his hands away. You didn’t deserve his kindness.

“Khan’s doing it by choice. You did it under threat,” he said.

“But the blood on our hands is still the same,” you shook your head. “Don’t you see? This is why this isn’t going to work. This is why it wasn’t fair of me to kiss you. I can’t put you in my line of fire. I can’t be selfish because it’s going to hurt other people. My sisters are dead, anyway. It didn’t matter. I can’t let that happen to you now when it does.”

He didn’t know what to say. What you had confessed, and all your terror and breaking down...it was the one wound he couldn’t heal, a scar he couldn’t dermal-regenerate away, a gash he couldn’t seal up. 

It may not have been him driving you away, but he wasn’t entirely certain that was a good thing.

“I told you knocking down walls was a bad idea,” you murmured, arms crossed in front of you, not in defense, but in weakness. Leonard never remembered seeing you so vulnerable before.

“Well, I don’t care what’s behind your walls,” he said firmly, taking your hands. “It’s still you. We’ve both made mistakes. Some are a little bigger than others, sure, but they’re ours. And they’re yours. And I love all the parts of you, so I’m not afraid of whatever it is Marcus or Khan or whoever wants to throw at me. I just want you to let me in.”

Your lower lip quivered as you looked up at him; god, he wanted so badly to capture it with his and soothe all your pain. Maybe he always had. Maybe it had just started with the headquarters attacked, as his heart had suspected. 

All he knew was that he wasn’t going to let you go it alone with this burden anymore.

But instead, you just smiled, sadness dusting your vision.

“That sounds lovely. But impossible. So I’m sorry for being selfish.”

Weighing down his heart, you took back your hands and walked away.

-

You can’t help pacing on the bridge. _Marcus is coming. He has to be. By this point, it’s only a matter of when._

“Calm down, Y/N,” Jim looked over at you. “We’re going to be fine.”

He didn’t sound confident.

“Jim, please don’t,” you exhaled heavily. “Don’t lie like that.”

“Listen, I may not be a super-soldier, but that won’t stop me from trying to help the crew. We’re going to make it out of this together.” 

You didn’t believe him, but you stayed quiet for the sake of the uneasy crewmen around you.

“Well, if you’re really that confident, at least you have another super-soldier on hand in the brig.”

Jim shifted in the chair instead of answering you.

“What’s that about?”

“I...might have moved Khan from the brig.”

“To where? The warp core? I hope it’s the warp core.”

The blond was more quiet than he’d ever been before, and that made you look at him.

“What?”

“Well…” he measured his words, “it’s not the warp core...I mean, I’m happy to tell you where Khan is, it makes sense for you to know, I mean, safety hazard, he’s your brother and all, but, well…”

“But _what?”_

“Well...first you have to promise not to get mad.”

You slowly narrowed your eyes; Jim felt the ice freeze his bones.

“James Tiberius Kirk, do not tell me you put my psychopath blood brother in the medbay.”

Jim opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it.

“JIM!”

“YOU PROMISED NOT TO GET MAD!”

“NO, NO I DIDN’T! YOU JUST ASKED ME TO, AND I DIDN’T, BECAUSE NOW I’M MAD!”

“Captain,” Uhura interjected nervously, “it’s the admiral.”

Jim took a moment to decide whether he would rather face an angry you or a looming admiral. He looked back over at you with your crossed arms and steam practically pouring out of your ears.

“Uhura, answer the hail from the admiral.”

Marcus’ face was promptly emblazoned across the viewscreen. It made you want to spew blood and venom and worse.

“Captain Kirk,” he greeted coolly, “it’s been a while since you checked in. You were due back an hour ago...I was worried that you ran into trouble with the Klingons.”

“No trouble, sir,” Jim answered, not missing a beat. “I have an excellent security chief.”

“Yes,” Marcus turned frigid blue eyes to you, “yes, you do. I’m seeing extraneous numbers on board...take any prisoners?”

“Just one. In engineering.”

You understood Jim’s plan immediately: keep Khan from Marcus, stall as long as possible, and hopefully talk his way out. You knew your captain, that much was certain, but whether or not you trusted him to be able to outfox Marcus was another story.

“Great work, Captain. Prepare to beam him over, and we can call it a day.”

“And what about the missiles?” Jim asked, shoulders back and jaw firm.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. So much for outfoxing Marcus.

“Oh, shit,” your former boss sighed flatly and leaned back in his chair, “you talked to him. I don’t suppose Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N had anything to do with that.”

“Not intentionally, sir,” you said, keeping your tone dry and your gaze cool, “you learn to just roll with the punches under Captain Kirk. I’m sure he’s as much a nuisance to me as I was to you. ...That’s a compliment, by the way, sir.”

He had that very Jim smile on, “As expected, Y/L/N.”

Marcus huffed, “Look, let’s make this easy. Turn over the prisoner, and we can forget this little lapse in subordination, Captain.”

“No can do, with respect, sir,” Kirk said. “Promoting war with the Klingons isn’t something the other admirals would approve of, I’m sure. Especially not if it means execution without trial.”

A beat. A long, painful, tense beat. You weren’t even sure anyone around you was breathing anymore. You kept your eyes trained on the viewscreen, hoping for mercy and knowing none of you would get it.

“Son, you are aware there’s a helluva lot easier way to erase this problem. Granted, it’d be a real shame to blow so many fine officers to ash, but if this is what it comes to….”

Your stomach dropped, and Jim looked like he had about the same feeling.

“No, sir, understand this was my decision. None of them knew what they were getting into when we left. If— if you want to punish anyone, let it be me, but don’t do this to my crew. Sir, please. I’m the captain. It’s my responsibility. This is all on me.” 

Your heart broke for Jim. Marcus would never budge, but his selflessness struck you. This was not the roguish, childish cadet that had walked into your basic training course.

No, as young as he was, Jim was a real captain. You certainly had no reason to doubt him or mistrust him.

You’re snapped from your moment of pride as you see that Carol has made her way to the bridge from the medbay. Your knee-jerk question is _what did that sick bastard do to Bones,_ but you hold your tongue; you’ve gotten very good at doing so.

“Dad?” she earnestly looks at the viewscreen with restrained but pleading eyes. “Dad, it’s me. It’s Carol.”

“Carol?” Marcus is thrown off his game, you can tell. “What are you doing?”

“Your missiles. They worried me. Looks like I was right...Dad, I...I know you’re trying to do what feels right to you, but...I can’t believe that you would sacrifice hundreds of lives for one. And I know that the man who raised me would never do something like this. Please, Dad. You don’t have to do this.”

Your heart leaps at Marcus’ pause. Who would’ve thought the old bastard actually had a heart?

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t.”

The look of concern that flashed across Carol’s face as gold light began to envelop her, even as she dashed away, put a pit in your stomach, and your hand went to your station as Carol fully beamed over to the Vengeance.

“What’ll it be, son?” Marcus asked.

You were running out of options. What options did you even have left, other than explode in space? Jim very well couldn’t turn over Khan, but….

The words tumbled from your mouth even with your plan half-formed.

“Take me instead.”

All eyes available turned to you.

“You?” Marcus frowned. “That still leaves a loose augment and a very mouthy security officer, Galatea.”

You pretended the name didn’t make you flinch as you strode forward, “But taking and ending Khan leaves you without anyone left to fight your Klingon War. No more Amazons, remember? Not only am I as smart as Khan, but I’m strong. You know that. I’m the perfect woman, after all. With me in your pocket, it won’t matter if you let them go.”

“Y/N, I can’t let you do this,” Jim grabbed your arm.

“I’m not asking your permission, Captain,” you said seriously. “As Chief Security Officer, it’s my duty to protect the crew. This is me protecting the crew.”

“You make a good point, Agent,” Marcus decided. “You have fifteen seconds.”

“Y/N…” Jim looked distressed, but he was clearly keeping it muted for the crew. 

You smiled sadly, “I’m too dangerous, anyway. It’s better this way. Just tell Leonard I’ll be okay. And give him this for me.”

You leaned up and kissed your captain’s cheek before golden light rearranged you onto the bridge of the Vengeance. Carol was looking on in silent sadness.

“Agent,” Marcus nodded at you, “welcome back to service.”

Three guards surrounded you; insurance, you decided.

“Let’s just go,” you said flatly.

“Hold on, Agent. Let me say goodbye to your friends.” Marcus looked back at Jim on the viewscreen, “I have what I need, Kirk. You have an hour to turn over Khan or die.”

“NO!” you snarled, paying no mind to the phaser rifles pointed your way, “YOU GOT ME, YOU ALREADY GOT WHAT YOU WANTED! LEAVE MY CREW!”

Sickness settled in your stomach, knowing that didn’t matter.

Jim had better hope for a good way out, because you certainly weren’t going to pull it off from here.


End file.
